Black Magic
America couldn't sleep, the colony normally slept in England's bed but the empire wasn't there tonight. Britain was in the house, of course but he was late to bed tonight later then he should have been.
XXX that night at Supper time XXX
"Alfred."
"Yesh Iggy?" the young colony took a break from stuffing his face with food (this was back when England could cook mind you)
"Don't talk with your mouthful, and don't call me 'Iggy' young man."
"Sorry Igg-, England."
"I am going to be late to bed this evening, I have some… business to discuses with the Indian colonies, I should be to bed by 10 o'clock, ok Alfred?" the older nation was completely serious and had all his attention focused on his younger charge.
"Got it Iggy!" even under his caretakers scrutiny he was irrepressible.
"Don't call me that!"
XXX the present XXX
As America wandered down the halls in search of his guardian he noticed a strange light coming from the abandoned parlor, Iggy had told America that the parlor had come with the house and that they would never use it for anything other than storage.
"Broken boughs and blackened leaves.
Ill things turn to barrenness.
Cruel claw and hungry throat"
America opened the door slowly so he wasn't noticed by the room's occupants, though at the moment he could have thrown the door open and wouldn't have been acknowledged. One a small black colony sat huddled on the floor in a green circle of light, his face contorted in a mask of unbearable agony. The other whom America recognized as eng- no not like this, this wasn't England anymore this was the united kingdom of great Britain and wales, his face alive with the ecstasy of unlimited power. The door slammed shut as America ran all the way to his room and stayed there for the rest of the night. That was his first night spent alone while England was in the house.
England saw America, but it wasn't until he had come down from his power high to actually register the small colony's attendance. "You may leave." The sentence was short and to the point he was done dealing with Africa and wanted him gone. The colony left without a sound, shaking from his ordeal. When he finally went to bed he noted the absence of a certain American colony from his bed.
For the next two months America was very careful not to get on England's bad side, he never forgot that night and when he had demanded his freedom he had never been more afraid. England had never forgotten the look of pure terror on America's face. They never forgot but with time there memory's had blurred and some aspects had been forgotten, still while America knew exactly how to push England's buttons he never fully got England mad, for fear of the retribution it could bring.
A.N. The poem is parts of the two trees by W.Y. Yeats I figured that magician pirate England needed a little love…
Anyway reviews are awesome!